The Morning After And The Day That Follows
by AilciA
Summary: Elrond and Glorfindel are not about to show four young friends who should have known better any mercy the morning after Aragorn's seventeenth birthday. Or will they? Written around the idea of banter and headaches. No slash. COMPLETE.
1. The morning after

A/N: Hello, just a short humour story that's been cooking ever since the morning after my dad's latest birthday bash. very amusing for observers who aren't hungover.  
  
  
The Morning After and the Day That Follows.  
  
  
The House of Elrond was quiet, almost too quiet.  
  
Barely a sound could be heard all throughout the house, just the gentle swaying of the trees in the warm summer breeze and the distant sounds of the waterfall... it would almost have been suspicious, for never was one able to hear oneself think for more than a couple of minutes usually. It *would* almost have been suspicious, and Elrond would have been worried, had the reason for the blessed peacefulness not been so painfully well- known. The night before, there had been a tremendous celebration: Aragorn had reached seventeen years of age, a fine time in the young ranger's life. Much mirth and joy had sounded last night, music played to it's loudest, wine and ale flowing as though in waterfalls, feasts all over the realm... but sadly, those who had indulged excessively in the celebrations were feeling the full effects of it that morning and were reluctant to face the world again.  
  
But the time had come to get those who suffered up and on with the day ahead: both Lord Elrond and Glorfindel had promised each other they would show no mercy to the four main indulgers, they could not be seen to go soft on the young elves and human... it would ruin all the regard they held for the two elder elves that Glorfindel and Elrond had worked so hard through their childhoods to build up.  
  
Glorfindel, however, did think that the pact of strength he and his friend had sworn that morning might have been a little harsh. He couldn't quite believe himself for it, but he was having second thoughts about showing no mercy to those who had indulged as he looked upon the bed of one Legolas Greenleaf. All the elder elf could see of the young royal was a heap of coverlets and blankets tangled in a lump at the centre of the large bed, a couple of limbs and Legolas' golden hair. One single, pale foot and leg stuck out at an odd angle from said pile; there were two arms visible that were held in a strange vertical postion, crossed at the forearms and resting against the headboard, hands limp and pointing downwards; and masses of golden hair spread thickly in every direction from a hidden source beneath the masses of blankets, completely covering the pillows it lay upon.  
  
The elder elf chuckled to himself; Legolas usually slept in such a tidy manner - the prince was a regular visitor at the House of Elrond, almost as though it were his second home - but this morning he was all arms and legs and hair! Glorfindel *did* regret what he had to do, but he had made the promise to Lord Elrond. With that encouraging thought in mind, he walked quietly towards the bed and pulled down the top blanket, exposing only the back of Legolas' head. "Legolas... Dian Las [Little Leaf], you must wake now. Breakfast is to be served in a moment or so."  
  
He watched with quiet, considerate amusement as Legolas gradually woke up... to a certain extent at least. The prince shifted his fair head in an unconscious answer to Glorfindel's soft calls, but then flinched deeply and grimaced with the movement, a large and quite vicious headache gripping the sides of his skull suddenly for some reason. He burrowed his head deeper into the tops of his arms as all limbs were retracted into the warmth of the coverlet pile instinctively, as though he were protecting himself from some invisible foe. Glorfindel decided he would try once more - the prince was an aimiable being, and would surely rise when asked again. "Dian Las, breakfast is going to be on the table soon... do not worry or feel victimised - Estel, Elladan and Elrohir are all being treated the same way."  
  
"Well that is some comfort, at least," came a groggy, muffled voice from under the piles and piles of blankets. Glorfindel chuckled, and watched as the Mirkwood elf slowly began to emerge from his warm haven. Legolas dragged himself labouriously upright till he sat unsteadily upon the side of the bed, head aimed unhappily at the floor with golden hair falling down over his slender shoulders to hide his face. His hunched figure and the dimness of the golden light he usually emanated being mere hints of how awful the prince was feeling. Legolas brought a hand shakily to the side of his head and, twisting his neck very gingerly, gazed unhappily at Glorfindel, green eyes bloodshot and raw-red. "Why was I allowed to drink so? Surely someone must've thought to stop me," his usually soft and melodious voice was hoarse.  
  
Glorfindel smiled, "Well, both I and Lord Elrond were a little more concerned with the twins' behaviour - we know by now that you are usually respectable when under influences; you can hold your drink better than they can."  
  
The young prince looked mildly horrified for a moment, ashen face transfixed, "Oh Valar, I didn't do anything embarrassing, did I?" He didn't think he would be able to stand it if he had made a fool of himself in front of Lord Elrond or any of the Rivendell folk, he hadn't yet, in all the long years he had visited and drunk in their household, and he saw no reason at all to start now.  
  
The elder elf merely shook his fair head, "Nay, Dian Las, you did not - and it must be said that you are the one who is relied upon to bring back the other three in safe pieces when you get together... we couldn't have you losing your job, could we?"  
  
"I am feeling rather undeserving of my job right now, if that is the case," Legolas groaned as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand to stop the light cruelly burning them. He stumbled to his feet in the borrowed nightclothes of Elladan - the shirt and trousers were far too big, having been made for a broader elf and with him being slight anyhow - and trudged towards Glorfindel with his head still angled down to his bare feet. The elder elf just laughed aloud and clapped him on the back as the prince winced, and began to lead him towards the breakfasting room.  
  
  
  
Breakfast in the House of Elrond was a perculiarly-familiar and informal affair - mostly everyone turned up still in their nightclothes; there was simply no need for formality between those who were almost family themselves.  
  
The Lord of Rivendell himself, was at that moment quietly sipping tea and watching his three children - whom he had been forced to drag out of bed that morn. Elladan and Elrohir were unusually quiet and simply got on with eating their breakfast of hot-buttered toast, trying not to show the full effects of their tremendous headaches and slight queaziness. Both had their dark heads directed firmly at their plates, avoiding everyone else's eyes - even each other; both were decidedly the worst for the wear, but were a little too proud and embarrassed to show it. Aragorn, meanwhile, was rather happily tucking into a huge, fried breakfast, believing his old, distinctly- human notion that cooked meat dripping in animal fat was the best way to cure a hangover - though Elrond, perceptive more than most, could see that he was struggling not to wince with every clatter of his fork, his nightshirt's open neck slipping off one skinny shoulder.  
  
Elrond, though he would never had admitted it aloud, had actually rather enjoyed forcing them all to get up and about that morning... he had found the twins slung over one bed, fully clothed, having collapsed the moment they reached their room the night before, and in the adjoining room had been Aragorn, curled up in a man-made nest of blankets, sore and still slightly damp head shielded from the rest of the world by his arms - he had eventually driven them upright, and was feeling rather pleased with himself.  
  
The lord could not quite hide the amused smile that kept appearing on his face, hidden by his teacup.  
  
A noise from across the room made everyone look up, the three younger beings a lot more gingerly than their father. In through the doors strode Glorfindel, a wide and tiumphant grin spread across his face, and behind him padded a very, *very* pale Legolas in clothing more than a few sizes too big for him. Elrond barely managed to keep the emotion of pity from his face; Legolas looked, in simple terms, like death warmed up... he seemed to be a lot more affected than the others for some reason.  
  
Aragorn grinned weakly and a little shakily as his best friend sat down with a thud into one of the chairs, an unusual gracelessness present in the prince's actions - the prince did manage, through his torture, to greet Lord Elrond and ask of him that morning, his inherintly-polite nature shining through his awful appearence. They remained quiet for quite some time, each giving relief to the others.  
  
"It is your own fault," Elrond stated without heed after a time of this silence, fixing each of the four with a deep-blue gaze in turn as he set down his teacup. "There is to be no sympathy coming to you from anyone in this household - you are to go about your business as usual." He hid another smile as the twins predictably groaned - for them, that meant lore- work in one of the huge libraries aided by Glorfindel, and although they usually enjoyed it, today it might just put them over the edge. Aragorn just nodded and sighed, shoveling another sausage into his mouth - for him, that meant healing tutorials with his father. But Elrond's sympathies were mostly with poor Legolas. In Mirkwood, where the guards and soldiers were of the most elite, highest standard - almost assasin-like in their trade - warriors in such skills took it upon themselves to train every day without fail. To be a Mirkwood warrior at all an elf had to be not only physically and mentally of the best, but they also had to be dedicated in their heart, for the sequences and training they put themselves through every single day pushed their bodies and minds to their ultimate limits. If it had been someone like Elrohir or Aragorn, Elrond would have simply expected them to skive off for the day, as they would have felt far too ill for the demanding exercises, but this was Legolas... and Elrond knew without a doubt that the prince would train as harshly today as he did every other.  
  
He decided to change topics to a lighter one, "Would you not have some breakfast, Legolas?" he asked kindly, indicating the spread.  
  
The prince looked vaguely sickened by the mere thought of food, face paling further and an expression of extreme faintness coming over his features. He shook his fair head politely, his voice soft and quaking a little, "Nay, my lord, I believe I shall skip breakfast today, thankyou."  
  
Aragorn snorted into his fried egg suddenly, then winced, and when all looked at him he laid down his fork and waved his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry," he said, breathless with a wide grin adorning his features, "I just remembered the dance that Elladan did on top of the main table last night."  
  
At this, the elder twin flushed a brilliant scarlet colour, and focused his attentions completely upon his buttered toast. A sly grin took over Legolas' face and he shared a twinkling glance with Aragorn. Even Glorfindel struggled in vain to keep the smile from his face. The dance had been *very* funny. Elrohir, however, rose to his brother's defence - something he would never have done usually, had he not been the one later the same evening to sing very loudly in a drunken and off-key tone. "Now, I believe we all did things last night we would not like to be reminded of this morn," he kept the image of himself singing at the top of his lungs whilst balancing a chair upon the palm of his hand completely from his mind. He carried on, voice hoarse and harsh, "Indeed, Estel, I seem to remember *you* falling into some sort of lake at one point... perhaps I was mistaken?"  
  
Now it was Aragorn's turn to blush, but he glared back bravely at his brother, chest puffing out with indignation. He cleared his throat, "Fine, everyone did things they don't want to remember, can we forget about them now?"  
  
"Actually," Legolas raised his hand quietly, "I don't think I did anything embarrassing."  
  
This silenced the four companions immediately as they all thought back through their hazy recollections and scattered memories of the fragmented night before, frowning as their headaches increased when they concentrated. "You know," said Aragorn after a moment, "I don't think you did, either..."  
  
"Yeah," said Elladan, recovering from his bought of embarrassment, complexion turning ghastly pale again, "how did you manage that, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas grinned weakly, "Well, we Mirkwood elves can handle our drink better than any spoilt Rivendell folk or a man." It was a long running streak of pride that Legolas had inherited - he was fiercely protective of his home and his lineage, and if the manner of his blood or way of life could better any other, he was not one to disregard it, and would definately mention it.  
  
Lord Elrond chuckled and cast a fond eye in the direction of the Mirkwood prince, who seemed to have only just realised he was sitting there. Legolas' brilliant green eyes widened in horror at his own insult, and he bowed his head respectfully as he stuttered, "M-my lord, forgive me... I-I, it slipped my mind that you... what I mean is- "  
  
"Peace, Legolas," said the calm elven lord, raising one hand to halt the onslaught of apologies. He noticed Aragorn's wide, highly-amused grin from the corner of his eye, as the young man looked expectantly from his best friend to his father. This triggered an idea in the lord's mind.  
  
Elrond let his hand fall, but the silence still kept in the air for a tense moment. Legolas' face was a picture of worry; Elrond's face had taken on the alarmingly stern expression it did of it's own accord when he was scolding one of his sons or was not best pleased about something. Then his features softened completely, and he laughed aloud at Legolas' expression. "It is a well known fact that Mirkwood elves are made of sterner stuff than us - you have to be, we are closed off from the majority of danger, whereas you live right in the thick of it. So, it is undeniable that you are able to hold alcohol with more ability than my foolish sons who do not know their limits. And we Rivendell folk fully accept that."  
  
Legolas was so utterly relieved at the lord's response that he physically deflated in his chair. He brought a shaking hand to his clammy forehead, "Oh, thank the Valar. Thankyou, Lord Elrond."  
  
"Not at all," Elrond replied easily with a humorous smile.  
  
Aragorn snorted again, and just grinned widely when Legolas glared darkly at him, "You should have seen your face, mellon nin." And with that he began tucking into his fried breakfast again, ignoring the thumping on the inside of his skull.  
  
  
  
Please review, there is more to come. this is just a lighthearted story, btw. 


	2. The day that follows

A/N: Wow, I really wasn't expecting such a response - thankyou so very much for surprising me!  
  
Artemis: Don;t worry about reviewing too much, of course it's always brilliant to hear from you, but just so long as your out there and still reading, I don't mind! And, wow, that sounds so much like my own school!  
  
Sireen C: Glad to provide a different perspective - that was exactly what I was aiming for with this story, also to show a little bit of the friendship between the four, and indeed Glorfindel and Elrond, that I think I may expand in another story... just testing the water, you know?  
  
Arwen Baggins: Sorry, can't help you with Legolas' age - it seems we have to use a lot of our ideas with him because not much is know, I'm afraid. I *think* he a bit younger than the twins, yet that raises the interesting question, doesn't it - did Elves care about the age of their companions, as they all lived forever anyway? Intriguing, no? lol  
  
Sorry, I know there were a lot more of you who reviewed, but we'd never get anywhere with the story if I individually wrote to you all. But suffice to say I very much appreciate you reading this story, and hope very much that you will enjoy and review it!   
  
Lord Elrond of Rivendell smiled a little and rolled his dark blue eyes when he realised what must have happened. He had been demonstrating the method in which to draw poison of a mild concentration from an infected wound, speaking aloud with his back to his single pupil. He had *expected* Aragorn to be making notes upon the practical show as he usually did, but upon asking a question and recieving no answer, Elrond had turned and found the young man dozing with his chin in his hand, completely oblivious. Though Elrond had promised Glorfindel that very morning that he would be strong and not be any easier in his rules or teachings just because of the state of his children, he could not help himself, and he made Aragorn a cup of painkilling tea.  
  
He now placed the steaming cup on the table top in front of the sleeping ranger, and gently shook the young man's shoulder. "Wake up, ion nin [my son]," he called in a soft voice.  
  
Aragorn seemed to respond to this, for one eye opened groggily and took in it's surroundings. The seventeen year old must have then suddenly realised the process in which he had come to be in such a place, and the other eye snapped open. Elrond watched as the dark pupils in the slate-grey eyes predictably shrank to tiny dots, and his youngest hissed as if he had been burnt. The Lord of Rivendell had to hold back the chuckle that almost escaped him as Aragorn then groaned and wrapped his arms around his face as a sharp headache assaulted the front of his skull.  
  
"I am sorry, ardar," came Aragorn's muffled, pitiful voice from beneath his arms. "I shall pay more attention."  
  
"Do not fret yourself," Elrond squeezed his son's narrow shoulder and moved to take a seat opposite him. He smiled even further as Aragorn finally removed his arms from around his head and tried to look at his father, squinting and grimacing most unattractively as he did so. Unfortunately for the ranger, the Sun was shining very brightly through the open windows just then, and his headache only increased to murderous heights. He groaned again.  
  
"Would you like to know something, Estel?" asked Elrond mildly, averting his gaze to a branch upon a tree outside the window instead of upon his youngest.  
  
Aragorn looked at him curiously - or at least, about as curious as one can get when they are trying with all their might not to simply scream and throw themselves from the nearest balcony in an effort to stop the pain assaulting them mercelessly. The elven lord continued, "I am actually considering feeling a little sorry for you... Now, do not mistake me!" he called when Aragorn's pale features brightened considerably at the thought of a restful day after all, "You are not getting off of this lightly... I was just considering whether it is your own fault, after all."  
  
"Well," Aragorn croaked, "My dearest brothers were plying me with drinks for a large portion of the night... I had to keep up with Legolas or he would tease, and there was that delightful and rather memorable game of 'downers' that Martonia instigated - I believe I was pressured into it," he concluded hopefully, trying to shift blame onto 'peer-pressure'.  
  
Elrond laughed aloud at that, "Nay - I do not imagine you can fob all of last night off onto other people. Part of growing up, Estel, is that you finally learn to take responsibilites for actions which- "  
  
"Arda, *please*!" cried Aragorn weakly, pulling the hot cup of tea to his trembling lips and letting the soothing steam caress his face. "You *know* under normal circumstances I would definately listen to your teachings and lectures, but *please* - it's still so early in the morning and I feel so very, very unwell... could this talk please be postponed until tomorrow... Please?"  
  
The Lord of Rivendell could not help himself, he could not deny anything from the large, tortured pair of crystal-grey eyes that looked up so imploringly at him. He sighed gustily, folding his arms and looking down to his feet for a moment, but when he looked back up again - there the damned eyes still were. "Fine, let it be," he cried, throwing up his hands and glancing up to the ceiling in his mock-agitation, secretly he was glad to let his youngest find rest... he could always tell Glorfindel different when asked.  
  
Aragorn made a pitiful, muted sound of triumph, drained his painkilling tea in one, set the cup down, folded his arms, and promptly fell into a deep, healing sleep where he sat. Elrond rolled his dark blue eyes, though they twinkled, and left the room and his youngest to his undeserved peace.  
  
  
  
"Now, you two, I have the book you requested, but why you needed it escapes me - I had to go all the way to..." Glorfindel trailed off as he glanced up from the worn pages of possibly the oldest and most difficult-to-find book of lore in the realm, to find both Elladan and Elrohir sleeping flat out across the table they were supposed to be writing on. The golden-haired lord said nothing further, simply walked up to the desk and let the large book fall heavily onto the table top without any more preamble, jolting both twins violently from their breif respite.  
  
"Hey!" cried Elrohir, voice broken and hoarse as he was startled, "We were sleeping then!"  
  
"So I can see," Glorfindel raised one practised eyebrow, dark brown eyes searching both twin's haggard faces. He was most unamused. "Is that why you sent me on a wild-goose chase to find this ancient novel, so you two could catch up on your beauty sleep?" his voice was tight, a veritable warning to any who heard this particular tone directed at them.  
  
But Elladan for once - as he was usually the more sensible twin - decided this time to completely ignore the warning signs of an explosion, and proceeded thus: "Why Glorfindel, you really think Elrohir and I need any more beauty sleep?" He leapt up from his seat deftly, even in his sluggish state managing to avoid the vast, leather-bound piece of work flung at his head. "Oh, come on! I was only jesting!" he cried, mildly alarmed and his friend's actions.  
  
"You are to carry on today as normal!" the elven lord reiterated angrily. "And that does not mean sleeping through your lore-tutorials."  
  
"But, Glorfindel," replied Elrohir wearily, an uncharacteristic whine seeping through into his tone as he stood, unasked, to retrieve the thrown novel from the floor, "We've been working hard all morning and the most part of this afternoon, no luncheon or anything. And we *normally* sleep through our lore-tutorials... it wouldn't be normal if we did not!"  
  
This made Glorfindel hesitate for a moment, on the verge of yelling at them to purposefully make their minds pound against their skulls - of course, he knew the younger twin was lying, but he thought he might have just found a way out of an awkward situation. If he only spun it properly, he could save himself quite a lot of hassle, and yet still get away scot-free... "Is that so?" he asked as though thoughtful, dipping his fair head to one side in an imitation of curiousity.  
  
The twins, for their part, were fairly suspicious over his sudden apparent- naivety. Surely Glorfindel was far too wise to fall for such a half- hearted, lame excuse? Their identical, dark-blue eyes widened simultaneously and they exchanged glances - but it seemed they felt far too wretched to care for the consquences if this was a cunning trap laid by the elven lord. "Err, yeah..." said Elladan as he looked back to his elder companion, searching his face for any hint of jest or anger.  
  
But he could find none. Glorfindel thought himself at that moment to be possibly the best actor in all of Middle-earth... perhaps he would take it up as a profession before he left that world's shores. He emanated stupidity - a fairly mean feat for one so learned as he... and yet he himself couldn't quite believe the guilibility of the twins. Mayhap all the drink consumed the night before a affected their brains more than previously thought? Either way, they believed him as he said, "Well, in that case - you may continue on as normal." And indicated they were to do so with a wave of his hand, offering the table top to them once more.  
  
The twins needed no second chance, and did not further question their elder mentor's curious behaviour. They buried their heads into the crooks of their arms, and left the realm of the living for some considerable time - they may have left their lore-work unfinished, but it was definately worth it in their eyes.  
  
Glorfindel grinned and, pulling the vast leather-bound text into his lap, sat in one of the plush chairs next to his friends, and there he spent a quiet hour or so listening to Elladan and Elrohir snoring softly where they sat.  
  
  
  
The dusk was beginning to fall around the Rivendell realm when Legolas dropped deftly from one of the thicker branches of a great beech tree, stumbling uncharacteristically as he landed heavily. He had been training all day, yet there had been more than a few mishaps... mainly losing his balance over and over resulting in a fair bit of pain for himself, misjudging things, feeling weak and not being able to keep up as he should - also, getting distracted by the pain in his head and behind his eyeballs. He had thrown up the little breakfast Lord Elrond had managed to force down him that morning, and had felt thoroughly miserable all day, and now, to top it all off, he was exhausted. But no one had lied to him, told him Mirkwood-warrior training was to be all fun and games - and he had sworn an oath of devotion, so he supposed it was down to no one other than himself.  
  
And that just annoyed him even further. The fact that he had brought all this upon himself.  
  
But he no longer cared, for the time had come to return to the Last Homely House, where he would immediately seek respite in the form of his bed, so warm and welcoming, and probably not wake til after noon the following day. He was so looking forward to just closing his eyes - hopefully they would stop aching - and he'd be fit to make up all the work he hadn't done that day. So he breathed in deeply, and stepped forward, beginning to make his way on shaky legs towards his bed, as though drawn there by an unkown force.  
  
  
  
Alright, let me know what you think of this story - whether you think it's acutally funny etc. There's one last bit to go, and I hope you stick with me for it! Cheers. 


	3. And the blessed night again

A/N: Wow, thankyou to everyone who reviewed - I really hadn't expected such a response, and was writing for my own personal enjoyment more than anything else... but you lot like your sweet humour, don;t you? Well, good! It made me smile to read your reviews, and thanks very much for writing them.  
  
elfmage: Me? Angst? *ahem* Yes, well... no, this story isn't I'm afraid - but I suppose it could be read like that. And you can never have too much Legolas angst/in pain stories about... but this one is merely me trying to get a little away from... *properly* hurting the poor elf all that much - because I seem to manage it in all my stories some way or another pretty much. And if you like Legolas angst etc. you should definately *definately* DEFINATELY watch out for this fic I am going to publish after 'Survival' that's also set in Mirkwood, and it's about Legolas taking the fellowship with him when he returns home, three years after the War of the Ring, anxious about his father will react as he left without the King's consent. But that is not all that happens.... I can tell you right now that it'll be long and full of angst, humour, pain, fluff, *tragedy*... everything. You interested?  
  
Deana, SireenC and Veryawen: Yes, it was a bit harsh how Legolas was the only one who did any work the whole day. But maybe the twins and Aragorn will get their commupence? You shall see!  
  
Also warm thanks to everyone else who reviewed with this story, you have been greatly appreciated and I'm glad you enjoyed it. Please don't forget to review at the end and let me know what you thought about the whole story, as well as this last chapter. Who knows, you might see some more things like this coming up soon? Hope you like, and cheers again.  
  
AliciA.  
  
P.S Can I just say that I did a little detective work and the occaision mentioned later on in this chapter is exactly right... am dead chuffed with this accuracy! I also found out that Aragorn's birthday is on March 1st, if you want to know.  
  
  
  
Aragorn yawned massively, stretching his arms out as he walked, popping his back and shoulders satisfyingly. The strong painkilling tea he had consumed that morning was wearing off now that evening had fallen, and an annoying, dull pain had returned to the sides of his head once more. He felt only a little better for the day of rest he had been given - no doubt he'd feel better in the morning, as his adar always said.  
  
Now, he was simply wandering about The Last Homely House, trying to find something to do, something that wasn't too strenuous. He couldn't find any of his friends, and suspected they had all crashed as they'd more than likely been forced to carry on as they normally did - the young ranger was actually feeling rather smug about his unexpected break, and would not miss the chance to rub the sore fact in when he met again with his brothers and mates. But Legolas was either out still running himself into the ground, or in his well-deserved bed, dead for the next twenty hours; Martonia and his other friends probably hadn't even gotten up at all that day, the state they were in the night before; and who knew where the twins were.  
  
As Aragorn rounded the corner leading to the doors which opened onto a sheltered verandah, overlooking the wooded path down to the pool of the waterfall, however, he spotted the narrow backs of his dark-haired brothers, kneeling either side of the high-backed bench, facing the scenery. He grinned and called out, though still being rather careful of his fragile head, "You two layabouts! What're you doing?"  
  
It confused him to no end when Elladan promptly leapt from where he knelt, rushing over to him, waving his arms about and making an urgent "*Shhhhhhh- shu*!" sort of sound with his teeth. Aragorn stopped with puzzlement, in the process of going to shout out again, so he held his breath and bit his lip. He then raised a dark brow at the elder twin as he neared the northerner. "What's your problem?" he whispered as he leant his head in conspiratorially to Elladan's, assuming that if he talked quietly he would not get scolded. "And why am I whispering?" He spared a glance to Elrohir, to see if the younger twin could give him any indication as to the cause of such odd behaviour, but Elrohir wasn't looking at him, his eyes were diverted downwards, on a level to where he was kneeling.  
  
But Elladan merely grinned weakly at him, face still pale from the previous night's excursions but his dark blue eyes seeming to be less bloodshot than they had been that morn. He indicated Aragorn should follow him, and led him around the side of the wooden bench. And there, previously hidden by the high back, lay the last prince of Eryn Lasgalen, dead to the world and in the realms of Elven dreams. Legolas' brilliant green eyes were more than half closed as he slept on his back, hand on heart and head turned slightly towards the back of the chair, and golden hair streaming down the side of the bench. Aragorn smiled fondly. "Aww, isn't he sweet," he said mockingly and looked to his brothers, who were grinning also. "When did you find him?"  
  
"Only a moment or so ago," said Elrohir quietly, mindful of their slumbering friend. "Reckon he's been actually working all day, otherwise he wouldn't have chosen this spot to sleep and show his exhaustion - you know what he's like."  
  
"Aye," said Aragorn. And he did - Legolas was a Mirkwood elf, and it was a trait of those from Eryn Lasgalen to have a proud streak down to their core, going out of their way not to show any weaknesses they believed they shouldn't have, thinking it would make them appear less if they let others know if they were tired or ill or injured. They had this streak because they lived in such dangerous conditions, and it was natural to them to want to keep themselves distant and appear as the force to be reckoned with that they were. It seemed that they had to appear dignified and highly-capable and independent at all times. And Legolas himself had this proud streak about league or so wide - many a time had he caused trouble to himself because he did not want to admit that he was hurt or exhausted... it was something which drove Aragorn half-mad, though he himself was 'The Master of the Diversionary Tactic' when it came to injuries. "Well, I haven't," he said, remembering to gloat, "adar let me sleep through my tutorial all day... so I feel a *lot* better now."  
  
"Well, our dearest Glorfindel is either foolish or ingenius - he let us sleep away the afternoon, so we're almost back to normal, too," returned Elrohir with a smug smile, determined not to let the human get the better of him when it came to anything..  
  
"So, wait - Legolas has been the only one to do as he should have done all day?" Elladan asked with a confused frown, trying to sort through his thoughts.  
  
The three brothers thought about this for a moment or so, then looked at each other and chuckled. "Poor Legolas," said Aragorn through his amusement. "Suppose he *does* deserve a rest, then. Shall we get him more comfortable?"  
  
"Aye," said Elladan, and moved to wake his sleeping friend. "Legolas," he said softly, "come on, mellon nin, up and we'll get you to your room."  
  
Legolas' eyes fluttered open half-heartedly and he winced - even the evening's dusky light being too much for his sore eyes and head to handle. He seemed to realise he had fallen asleep, and his tapered ears tinged pink, as they usually did when he was embarrassed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but only a strangled sort of sound emerged, so instead he tried to sit up as quickly as possible. Elrohir smiled, and rested a hand upon the archer's arm, helping him upright, "Don't worry, Dian Las [Little Leaf], we won't tell a soul," he said kindly.  
  
The Mirkwood elf looked from the earnest dark blue eyes to another identical set, to one of starry-grey - all honest and mildly concerned. And he could no longer fight against his exhaustion, so he gave up trying, and nodded weakly, consenting to let the elder elf help him up.  
  
"Aside from Andariun and Arianduil, that is," added Aragorn quietly with a sly grin, grey eyes rimmed with shadow twinkling merrily. At Legolas' alarmed and daring glance, and Elladan's dissapproving one, he rolled his eyes painfully, and admited, "I was only jesting, for Valar's sake..."  
  
"That's not very funny," croaked Legolas weakly, the voice he had found was pained, and he winced again as his voice boomed inside his own mind, reverberating against the inside of his skull. "Those blasted twin brothers of mine would never let me here the end of it." The two middle princes were the least forgiving of Legolas' many brothers, seconded in their almost- complete lack of sympathy only by Legolas' closest sibling, the princess Aricelsa, who believed him far too rash in his actions and that he brought most of his injuries on himself... he supposed, this time, she was right.  
  
Elladan chuckled, clapping his friend on the back and saying wickedly, "I shouldn't worry: we could tell you many tales of those two which would make them avoid your eye for about a century or two."  
  
The prince's leaf-shaped ears seemed to prick up at this, and he looked suspiciously at the elder twin. "I am far too tired to ask more of that statement now, but don't think I haven't stored it in my mind for a later date," he grinned. "I need all the help I can get when it comes to that pair."  
  
"I hear you," muttered Aragorn. This achieved the ranger a quick cuff upside his dark head from Elrohir, taking his hand from Legolas' shoulder only to commit this small action, before carrying on as before. Aragorn glared good-naturedly at Legolas when he chuckled, as though it were the archer's fault.  
  
Soon enough, they reached Legolas' chamber, light and airy as the Mirkwood elf liked it. The Rivendell three sat their friend down upon the bed and proceeded to, without question, remove his boots and over-tunic, fussing over Legolas while he sat calmly upon the sheets with his hands placed in his lap, in a dazed sort of state. When the twins had finished, they lay the fair prince down and pulled the blankets and duvets up to his chest, while Aragorn plonked himself heavily upon the other side of the soft bed. Legolas sighed as his thumping head hit the smooth, cold pillow, and stretched his tired limbs a little, turning onto his side with a groan and closing his eyes.  
  
"You alright there, Legolas?" asked Elladan as he seated himself in the chair at the prince's closest bedside.  
  
"Mmmm-hmmm," murmured Legolas sleepily. "My muscles just ache a little, is all."  
  
In answer to this, Aragorn began rubbing his best friend's narrow back absently, grey eyes looking at the painting opposite them, to the right of the door to Greenleaf's room. It was of the royal family of Mirkwood, all of them - nine children, King Thranduil and Queen Liennia, who had been lost to Middle-earth many millenias ago, the only one Aragorn had not met and loved. He had been told since he could remember that Glorfindel had painted it for Legolas, so that the young elf did not get homesick when he came to visit the twins and Arwen in Rivendell, many many years before Aragorn had even been born. It was odd to think that Legolas had been around for so long before Aragorn had even known him... and yet still seemed unable to handle a hangover, however bad it was.  
  
"Legolas? You have eaten, haven't you?" asked Elrohir with the tone of a mother-hen seeping into his voice, pulling himself onto the bed and into the space where Legolas' feet would have occupied had his knees not been drawn up to his chest under the covers.  
  
"I did," came Legolas' slurred reply, obviously upon the very brink of sleep. "You father made me, but I threw it back up again... against my will... but, I am not hungry and feel I shall be sick from tiredness," he added, anticipating Elrohir's argument. "If it bothers you, I shall get something tomorrow, but please not tonight." He waved a hand about vaguely, but did not lift his golden head.  
  
The younger twin seemed to consider this before replying, "Aye, all right."  
  
The room was quiet for a moment, until Legolas mumbled, soft voice muffled by the covers drawn up to his chin and pressed against his face, a greatful smile on his face, "Thanks, you lot."  
  
Elladan looked over to Aragorn, and grinned widely. "Don't mention it, Legolas," he said quietly.  
  
And so it was that the youngest prince of Eryn Lasgalen fell away into blessed respite, and would wake in the morn fully recovered from the morning after and the horrid day which had followed. One by one, his friends also all dropped off into a slumber, allowing their bodies to heal even further.  
  
  
  
It was in the middle of an unusually and eerily peaceful evening when Lord Elrond and Glorfindel eventually checked Legolas' room. What they found there made them stand stock still, framed in the light streaming in through the doorway, and smile.  
  
Slumped in the chair next to the bed was Elladan, head on chest and hands folded in his lap as his long legs lay straight out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, and his long dark hair fell in front of his face, hiding it's features. Elrohir was also there, curled up at the foot of the bed like a hound in front of a fire, one arm flung out and hanging off the bed. On top of the bed clothes lay Aragorn, asleep on his back with one hand behind his head and the other resting lightly upon Legolas' narrow back. And the prince himself had finally been given his peace, and was thankfully sleeping like a log, and would do until someone could bear to wake him. He slept on his front, strands of spun sunlight feathered out over his back and pillow once more, face turned towards Aragorn and arms beneath his pillow, pressing it to his face.  
  
"It seems we have found the reason for the peace, my lord," whispered Glorfindel, his deep voice amused.  
  
"So it would seem," replied Elrond, dark blue eyes twinkling. "How can those three still need sleep?" he asked, perplexed - he and his best friend had found out about each other's minor-betrayal, and had found it very amusing and relieving to discover that both had acted in the exact same manner as the other. "And I would like to bet you that Legolas, on the other hand, will have been true to his word and training all day." A slight wave of guilt surged up from his stomach, and he spared a glance at Glorfindel, who had a similarly distressed look upon his fair face.  
  
Glorfindel looked to Elrond, an idea coming to him all of a sudden, "Well, I believe the twins tomorrow were going to be translating a long and rather obscure piece of old literature, scribed of the hands of the ancient and written all in rhunes - the storyline itself makes no *actual* sense, but I think it will be good practice for them... and something they obviously *need* to master."  
  
A slightly wicked grin became Lord Elrond's features, and his deep blue eyes twinkled with the light of the stars as he caught on to his best friend's train of thought. He looked back to the inert form of Aragorn, "Ah, yes - I remember now that I was going to show Estel how to squeeze puss from a rancid absess tomorrow... what time is breakfast for Legolas again, Glorfindel?" He raised a hand to his chin, as if pondering.  
  
The golden-haired lord chuckled - this feigned innocence was highly amusing, he reckoned he should indulge in it more often. "Oh... after noon- time, wasn't it?"  
  
"I believe so, yes," replied Elrond with an assertive nod.  
  
They shared a secret, smug smile... and Glorfindel, taking a step backwards, rubbed his hands together, "Oh, your children are going to have such fun early tomorrow morn when Mithrandir arrives from where he took leave in Rohan, for Prince Theoden's birth - he shall have more than a few words to say on the matter or last night and this day."  
  
"Let us hope so," laughed Elrond loudly, anticipating the arrival of his great friend with much joy. "I believe Estel, Elladan and Elrohir are in for a good, sound ear-thrashing and a clip about the chops." His laughter made Legolas turn his head, mashing his nose slightly into the pillow, yet he was still deep in slumber, and sank away again almost immediately. Lord Elrond took this as their cue to leave, and pulled Glorfindel away. They took one last look at the children and Elrond's almost-fourth son, smiled softly again before leaving them to their brief peace, shutting the door quietly behind them and not disturbing them again that night.  
  
End.  
  
  
  
Thankyou once more to everyone who read this - please review with final thoughts! Cheers. 


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